Three against the world
by soulmaker
Summary: Taking the Dark Trio Challenge from DZ2. What if the trio we know and love had succumbed to the selfishness in their hearts? What if Harry Potter Changed under the abuse? If Hermione was sick of being the outcast? If Ron took his want for acknowledgement to depths unimaginable? This is a story that tries not to make the Trio too OOC but still changes alot of things.
1. The Difference

**Taken as a challenge from DZ2's The Silver Trio. You can find the rules and guide there.**

**I own nothing, not the world, not the characters, hell not even the concept really.**

**Always nonprofit...duh**

There was something very wrong with number four Privet Drive. No one would know it from the outside, it was a perfect copy of all the other houses with emerald green grass an assortment of perfectly placed bricks and a brown roof with not one shingle out of place. Indeed if one judged a house on nothing but appearance then it was perfect with a capital P. But that was just it, nothing in this world was perfect, and anyone that claimed as much was either a liar or a fool. At least that's what one little boy in the cup board under the stairs believed.

The man of the house, a huge tub of fat and organs who was not long for this world according to both his diet and his doctor, was the typical office nine to fiver who smiled to your face but spread rumors behind your back. He had thinning brown straight hair kept in a neat little cut with beady brown eyes the only made his face seem all the more massive. His cloths always had to be let out and if they were being honest it was a miracle the seams could hold at all, but even with his massive obesity Vernon Dursley managed to get move on his own will to live a normal life with his wife Petunia.

Everything about Petunia was the complete opposite of her husband. Where he was overweight and sloppy, she was thin almost scarily so and well put together. She carried herself with a practiced grace that many adored and even more tried to copy, head held high with her nose in the air as if she couldn't be caught looking at the ground. Considering her slim frame in contrast with her husbands it was clear to all that they had not been romantically involved in quite some time, probably not since her pregnancy with Dudley. It was a shame, she had the looks of a woman who used to be very pretty and happy, a part she played well to the neighbors and guests. But inside she was dead, a hollow woman who did what she believed a good house wife did best, take care of her family and support her husband's decision without question. Indeed, that was one reason she kept the cupboard locked and her son stuffed with sweets, and why there was a constant bottle of wine in their basket whenever they visited the local market. Petunia was now enjoying a glass at 11am while her son sat before the telly stuffing his face with cookies and pies.

And all the while, in a cupboard under the stairs, Harry Potter watched his whale of a cousin with open jealousy and anger. 'Look at him, almost as big as his blubber faced father and still he eats like a starved man. How strong his stomach must be, to hold all that food without exploding.' A sinister smile crept onto the eleven year olds face as he imagined such a thing happening. One too many custards before his cousin exploded into a mess of blood and fillings all over their white carpet, 'The stains would never come out.'

It was tragic how Harry had turned out. Once upon a time ago Harry had held love for his family, didn't want to see them hurt or in pain. He'd grown up living under the stairs, it seemed normal for a six year old to set the table and clean the house, to mop floors and dust everyday all day. The hitting was a constant too, but it wasn't until he realized that only he was being hit that it occurred to him that his family were not treating him right. And that's when the darkness started to spread. Harry used to squash it down, told himself that they weren't all bad, that eventually they'd love him, that they'd say it was all a horrible test that they had to do in order to make him one of their own. But with each year, with each beating, with each week locked in the closet with no food or water, that optimism faded, and resentment took its place.

Now this Eleven year old boy was mostly skin and bones with messy dirty black hair and piercing green eyes. His skin was covered in scars, most on his back and under his shirt as not to arouse suspicion onto his...Guardians who worked him tirelessly every day and rewarded him with scraps of food and the sole of their shoes if he took too long on a task. His cousin was the worst though, going out of his way with his stupid friends to make his already miserable existence worse with cruel games and savage beatings. The neighbors wrote it off as boys being boys, rough housing was after all a part of growing up, but in the parks away from preying eyes it went further than just rough shoves and bruised eyes. Lucky for Harry nothing ever stayed broken for long, and now he knew why.

"You're a wizard, Harry."

Hagrid was is name, a man twice the size of his uncle and probably weighed more to boot. He had a long shaggy beard and an umbrella that could do magic, and not the kind Dudley had over on his 8th birthday. This man wielded a power that was strong and mystical, and though he didn't use much of it Harry knew that inside him was that same power. Only he didn't know how to bring it out...yet. Sure there were times when things exploded when he got angry or stressed, or the time his hair grew back from a nasty hair cut that had left him bald thanks to that fat oaf. But until the snake escaped and thanked him for its new found freedom, the boy under the stairs wasn't sure it was his doing. 'But tomorrow he'll come for me, he swore it. Tomorrow he'll show me the world I belong in and when i return, they won't be able to stop me. Not anymore.' Outside Dudley was laughing at something on the telly, his mouth agape spitting crumbs onto the floor, crumbs that he'd have to clean up later no doubt. 'Laugh while you can fatty, I'll see you weeping before long.'

Hermione...

Imagine being an adult trapped in a child's body forced to deal with the immature antics of children day in and day out. Imagine that because of your age and the pitch of your voice that no one took you seriously, that no one gave you any real consideration because in their mind you were only a child and nothing more. Then, remember that children are unspeakably cruel especially to those that are different in any way but most of all in a smart way. Most people would imagine that as being hell. Hermione lived that life every day.

The buck toothed, bushy haired girl had not been trying to show off, she was just so excited about learning new things that she took to them with a fever not seen even in most geniuses. Truth be told she wasn't particularly gifted with natural smarts, but instead she read and re-read books until they were memorized in her mind just waiting to be called upon. 'The only true wisdom is knowing that you know nothing,' a quote by Socrates that hung in her local library that serving as the motivation for the young girl. In time she came to be a great mind, a knower of facts most glossed over, and in her pursuit of wisdom Hermione gained no small amount of it which only served to separate her from her peers. Who wanted to play in the mud when she could be reading up on multiplication tables? Sand Castle? Wouldn't you rather learn French? For her questions needed answers and books were there to provide them and like most inquisitive minds Hermione believed that there was no stupid question...well except for one.

Why? God how she hated that one word question, like a stain she could not remove, why hung there no the lips of simple minds and great just threatening to burst forth. Don't be mistaken, if you asked Hermione why the sky was blue she'd be more than happy to tell you. Ask her why birds migrated and she'd reward you with a smile and give you an explanation. But if you ask her simply why, well then she'd flare her nostrils and give you a glare that made most adults chuckle awkwardly under the intensity. WHY? Why was a waste of breath, a criminal misuse of a word that could better articulate ones thoughts, and most of annoying of all it was the first thing children turned too when they wanted to tease her. She could still hear their sharp laughter the first time she cried under there onslaught of meaningless questions.

To make matters worse her parents had no time to help her. Being dentists wasn't exactly rock stat status, but owning your own practice made for a hectic life. Not to mention that they weren't exactly the best of parents even when they were home. Sure the encouraged their little girl to be smart and self reliant, but that was only because the two of them didn't know how to raise a little girl. Beyond food, shelter, and clothing they were clueless. And since she was an only child it meant she was alone, to young to be an adult and to old in her mind to be prattling around with the children. But all that changed with a letter, one that arrived in the middle of June with a woman dressed in strange robes.

She never believed in magic, only fools or children gave it any thought and she was neither. But it was hard to argue science when the woman changed her living room couch into a full African Rhino that moved about on its own. It thrilled her, and Hermione insisted that she do more to prove that this wasn't some insane dream. Two more creatures from common house appliances later and the world Hermione knew changed for ever. 'I'll use magic.' Magic was the answer the question she never knew. It would be the equalizer, a tool to bend their will. If they didn't like her then so be it, she would FORCE them to respect her.

Ron...

They say the oldest child was the experiment, pushed the hardest and rewarded the least. The middle child was the forgotten one, parents knew how to deal with children for the most part but split their attention to the others. And finally, the youngest was spoiled, acting out and getting their way because by this point the parents had all but given up hope. But how did that work with seven children? If you asked six of them they'd say it was brilliant, they none of them had any problems with how they were raised. But they were not Ron Weasley.

The sixth son, the youngest boy but not the youngest child. He had a unique but unfortunate position in life that would forever leave him in shadow. Where he the youngest there was a chance he might escape that shadow, with the attention of his parents Ron might have formed a bond that would eventually leave him with something his brothers did not have. But it was not meant to be, hell he and Ginny were only eighteen months apart. He was no rouge Curse-Breaker exploring tombs and traveling abroad seeing all kinds of wonders. Nor was he a dragon tamer who left Hogwarts a legend as the best Seeker Gryffindor had since James potter led the time as a Chaser, funny how no one remembered the blokes name. Fred and George would never be forgotten, not because of their pranks, which help, but because they are twins and twin have a place all their own on the Weasley hall of fame. But that just left Ron alone. No special talents, no studious rule loving prick like Percy. Just a boy who like his brothers was forced into his mother's way of thinking, at least he would have been were it not for his new found spite. Ron could not rebel openly, he would be one man braving the wrath of his entire family and even he was not that head strong, but he could do so with his mind.

Sure, let them think he didn't mind their poverty, that he wasn't interested in making more galleons than they'd ever seen or using whatever means necessary to do so. Ron would treat this like wizard's chest, moving pieces in seemingly random directions unti all of them aligned for a swift and surprising victory. His family might be blood-traitors, poor, and pretty much the puppets of Albus Dumbeldore, but not he. No Ron would make them rich beyond their wildest dreams and wield power none of them could even fathome, cementing his name in the history books as THE Weasley instead of just A Weasley. And where better to start that Hogwarts?


	2. A pact is made

**A/N: My goodness I did not expect so many people to follow or review, especially with glowing encouragement to continue on with this. I must admit this is my first time writing Harry Potter fanfiction and I'm a little worried that I won't live up to your expectations. That being said I'm going to do my best to give you guys a story worth reading. Hopefully I'm up to the challenge.**

**Chapter 2: A pact is made.**

King's Cross was bustling with people as they rushed to catch their trains with friends and family. Most of them were just busy bodies as the working class was already clocked in at half past ten, but no one here seemed to wear the kind of clothing that Harry had seen in Diagon Alley. 'Figures that they'd leave me here. Dam them, I wish Dudley would have that tail permanently.'

Thinking about his cousin's predicament brough a grin to his face, but it didn't help his current situation and now people were starting to stare at his cart which had his owl Hedwig on top. Normally children weren't unescorted and Harry did look rather poor in his cousins hand me downs. He was about to move when a woman's voice caught his attention,

"packed with muggles as always."

She was rather plump and homely with fiery red hair along with what he assumed were her children. Four boys, three of them older with another boy and girl who looked about his age. He heard them talking, watched as the older three boys went through the wall before he cleared his throat, "Excuse me, but could you tell me how to get through?"

The woman turned on him with a smile, before it faltered slightly and her eyes widened. Perhaps she didn't think he noticed but Harry saw her eyes flick to where his scar was before coming back down, "Of course dear, first year I take it? Well don't worry Ron is new too. All you have to do is push towards the wall. Helps if you get a bit of a running start, just don't stop until you're through."

Harry gave his thanks before he turned to the wall, feeling their eyes on him as he did so. Even though he'd just seen three people go straight through a solid wall his brain was telling him that this was a bad idea, but he barely heard it over the hammering of his heart. 'Come on this has to work, just one small step to becoming a wizard!'

His courage gathered Harry raced forward with hurried steps, pushing his cart first into the wall which to his ever growing shock disappeared into the brick which hurried up to meet him. On instinct Harry closed his eyes, but when the sound of a train whistle sounded he opened them again to see a different world. All about people dressed in robes and other strange garments were talking excitedly with one another as children got themselves aboard the train.

Not wanting to miss his chance, Harry made his way on board but had trouble lifting his trunk. It was embarrassing really, but being malnourished and eleven years old Harry had no business trying to lift such a heavy load. Yet the red headed twins were there to the rescue. After helping his get it loaded they bugged out when they saw his scar, asking him if he was THE Harry Potter. He confirmed it and it looked like they were about to assault him with questions but their mother's call got them back to her side.

Harry hated this new found celebrate status with a passion. If he was so loved by the wizarding world and hailed as a hero why had they not looked into his life to rescue him from those horrible people he so rarely called family? Where were they for the endless nights of hunger and relentless chores? Where were they for the beatings and ridicule for something he couldn't even understand until a month ago? Harry was no fool, and he knew that certain avenues might open for him since he was so well known, but under no circumstances would he let himself fall into his own hype.

The shrill whistle of the train broke him from this thoughts. It was time to depart and Harry glanced out the window to see the parents waving to their children. He felt a small pang of jealousy that no one was out there for him. The compartment door opened to reveal the youngest boy from the red headed family. He was tall for his age which was made evident by his ridged posture full of pride and grace even though his cloths were second rate, "Do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

"No, go right ahead." Mumbling his thanks the boy stowed his trunk and took the seat opposite of him. There was a brief pause, an awkward silence that had the two of them looking out the window as the trained lurked on towards the exit.

"My names Ron by the way, Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry, Harry potter." He braced himself for the gawking, but surprisingly it never came.

"Are you really? The Daily Prohpet has been in a frenzy over you starting school this year. First time anyone magical has seen you in over eleven years."

"That's one of the big papers around here right? Can't believe people want to go through all that for something I did as a babe."

"Yea, they're bloody annoying about it if you ask me. Stories of you and everything since the defeat of You-Know-Who have blown out of control."

Harry was glad that Ron didn't see him as some super star worthy of praise, nor did he ask him to move his bangs to see the scar. The two of them talked a bit about what to expect from Hogwarts, and the professors. Eventually it turned to houses. Harry had read a little of his book Hogwarts a history, but Vernon didn't want him reading that freakishness in his house, so all of his belongings were taken and locked in the garage. Still this left him mainly uninformed on houses and their meanings, but Ron was quick to catch him up.

"its pretty simple. Gryffinndoor is supposed to be for the brave and courageous, Ravenclaw for the studious and the brainy type, Hufflepuff…well I guess you could say loyal and friendly because other than that they don't really have much, and then there is Slytherine."

Ron paused now, his face scrunched up as he seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, "Slytherine is supposed to be for the cunning and ambitious, but from the way my family tell it they are just the wrong sort of people. Not that I believe everything they say about it, they were all Gryffindors so they don't like each other."

Harry listened with interest as he thought about the houses he might be put in. Out of all of them he liked RavenClaw and Slytherine the best. Ravenclaw because studying magic and how the wizarding world works as a whole would give him a good foundation on becoming one of the best wizards to ever wield a wand. But Slytherine sounded good since he certainly had ambition and if he was being honest perhaps he could be cunning if he tried.

"So what house do you thing you'll go to? Gryffindor like the rest of your family?" It was an innocent enough question, but Ron scowled at it anyway.

"Merlin I hope not. It would be just what everyone expects, another Weasley in Gryffindor. I don't want to stay in my brothers' shadow, figure it'd be best if I was either a claw or a serpent."

"Really? I was thinking the same thing. Courage is good and all but I'd rather have wisdom or power, want to be known for something more than just the whole 'Boy who lived' nonsense."

"Wow, I'm glad you're not buying into that. No offense but I figured you'd probably be this diluted ponce with a head the size of a troll."

"Yea and I'm glad you aren't one of my many many 'fans'. I think we could help each other out if we get into the same house. I mean you know a lot about the wizarding world that I'll probably never get from books, and I'll help you on whatever you want to make a name for yourself. With everyone already thinking I'm some hero, I'm sure whatever we do will get a lot of attention."

There were about to continue when the door opened to reveal a blond haired boy and two massive black haired gorilla children. Harry had seen the boy before for a small time when Hagrid took him to get his robes, but Harry either could not remember his name or he never got it. Thankfully, Ron solved that problem.

"Malfoy." It was an even tone just bordering on dislike, and Harry noticed his new found friend's ears were turning a shade of red that would soon rival his hair.

"Well well, another Weasley? I'd heard from father that there were a lot of you but this is getting out of hand." He wore a smirk and hurled insults with ease and grace, Harry had to admit it was different from the way most children spoke. It seemed Ron was about to reply but then Draco shifted his gaze to Harry, and his smirk intensified, "So you're him then? Harry Potter? They say you were raised by muggles, is that true?"

Harry, not wanting to be rude, but at the same time he did not want to just befriend the enemy of Ron who was on the cusp of exploding either. So he chose a somewhat cheeky reply, "And if it is?"

It seemed Draco approved which earned them a sharp laugh, "Then you won't know which families a proper wizard should alley himself to and which to avoid. You'll find that there are two kinds of wizards, those that are destined for greatness," And then he cut his eyes to Ron, "And those that will never even taste glory."

"We'll just see about that Malfoy!" Ron was red with anger, and Harry swore that all the blood was in his head. But seeing this only made the blond and his goons laugh harder. Harry was quite done letting his friend, who so far was nicer to him than any of his so called family ever managed, be badmouthed.

"You'd be surprised Malfoy. Greatness can come from humble beginnings." It was profound, but true. He'd heard it on the telly in those rare moments he'd been alone in the house outside his cupboard. It was a show about a man in a phone booth traveling to different places, one that he really liked.

His declaration seemed to have the desired effect, as Malfoy simply stared at him with intensity while Ron's face seemed to calm if only slightly.

"We'll see about that, won't we? Crabb, Goyle, let's go." And with that he was gone, the door shut behind them

"That bloody git! I'll make him eat those words, show him that not all purebloods have to be alike to gain power! That's the only bad thing about Slytherine if you ask me, we'll have to deal with that fool for the rest of our stay. Thanks for saying that, about humble beginnings."

"Don't worry about it. We'll make sure to prove him wrong."

He was still fuming when the food cart came by and was put in an even fouler mood when he realized that all he had to eat was the corn beef he heated so much. Harry however was generous with his money, after all they were friends and partners now, so there was no need to be shy about it. The red head hesitated and explained that his family did not take handouts, but Harry was determined saying that it was just payment for the lessons Ron had already taught him.

Ron was in the middle of explaining quidditch when the door opened once more. Ron was about to tell of the intruder, figuring it must be Malfoy again, but all the air left his lungs when he was instead looking at one bushy haired girl with buck teeth with her trunk in hand.

"Do you mind if I sit with you? I've had enough of my previous company." She like Ron looked agitated and put off, but unlike the freckled boy she was much better at hiding it.

"I don't mind, Ron?"

Ron looked gave her a glance before shaking his head and raising to his feet to help stow her trunk. She sat next to him and gave them thanks for the shelter. The girl gave Harry a stare, the same one people had been giving him since his introduction to the Wizarding World so it was no surprise that her eyes found his scar.

"So you're Harry Potter."

"It's weird that people know my name when I've never met them." She at least had the decency to blush.

"Sorry, I'm Hermione Granger."

"Ron Weasley."

"So Hermione, what brings you here?"

It should have been an innocent question, but the way Hermione narrowed her eyes Harry could tell that it was nothing pretty.

"I was sitting with another group of first years but they were just so chatty about stupid things. I believe one of them was how they were going to woow the boy who lived. Anyway I tried asking them questions about the Wizarding world since I'm muggle born, but they apparently got frustrated with my 'nosey questions'. As if it's my fault that I've only found out about magic a month ago. Anyway there was a boy, Nevil who answered a few of my questions but he went off to find his lost toad and without him there they were just unbearable. Did you know there is a small chapter about you in our history books? You're supposedly the only one to survive the killing curse. Suppose that's why you have so many fans."

"Right, and are you one of those fans?"

To his surprise she scoffed, "As if. You didn't really do anything did you? I mean you were a baby and I'm supposed to believe that the most apparent wizard just dropped dead to a small child? He more likely messed up his curse or ran into an unforeseen error, but that's more luck for you than skill isn't it?"

"I must be lucky, already have two people who aren't overwhelmed by my apparent fame."

His sarcasm got her smiling. She had a ton of questions and observations, things that Harry didn't even think to ask or even pay attention to, but for all her questions about how the Wizarding world worked, Ron had answers. Apparently Blood Status was a sort of underlying theme in the government, and while most people didn't care about being muggles coming into their world a lot of pure bloods thought they shouldn't be allowed. It was then that Harry realized why Draco had such a low opinion of the Weasley family. He was shocked, Hermione was appalled.

"But that's ridiculous! Magical purity isn't determined by blood at all, it can't be otherwise no muggle born could exist. And what about squibs? Those are born to magical families sometimes, so what does that say about them?!"

Ron was startled by her anger and went about trying to placate the girl before she continued her tirade, "Easy Hermione, it's like I said no all people feel that way. And no teachers will judge you based on something like that."

"Yes but what about after school!? What if I want to get a job in the ministry or run for Minister of Magic? If what you're saying is true then I probably won't even be allowed to do so without people saying muggleborn's have so say in wizard politics. That's horribly unfair and foolish."

It was becoming clear to Harry that for all the perks and greatness of the Wizarding world that there was an equal amount of problems. 'Still better than being stuck at the Dursley's doing chores or taking beatings. I'll just have to carve out a place for myself here with them.'

If Harry was a little older he might have realized that he was being over protective of the other two people in the compartment. Which was odd since he never cared about anyone else since he realized his situation with the guardians. Perhaps it was because for the first time in his life people were seeing him for who he was, just another 11 year old boy with a somewhat unique scar on his head instead of a freak like the Dursley's saw him or a celebrate like the rest of Wizard kind saw him as. Either way, he made up his mind then and there that the three of them would be friends forever.

"Hermione before you came in Ron and I were talking about what houses we wanted to go to. Do you have any in mind?"

She broke off her conversation with Ron over something about spells and gave Harry a stare, "Well I'd read that Dumbledor was in Gryffindor and I figured that it would be a good start to be in the same house as one of the most powerful wizards in history. Then again Raven Claw is supposed to be the house for people in pursuit of knowledge, and I really want to know all there is to know about magic. I'd probably get along better with Raven Claw."

Ron looked a little uncomfortable at that statement, which prompted questionable looks from the others. He cleared his throat before slowly speaks, "Well…that's not exactly true. My brothers are all in Gryffindor and they could just be exaggerating but they say the Claws are cold even to their own. They all have their pride in their brains and they don't like being upstaged by anyone. If you're too smart its possible they'll treat you worse even though you're in the same house. Could be wrong though."

At this Hermione got a faraway look in her eye, before it changed to one of outrage, "It isn't fair. I thought the wizarding world would be different, a place where intellectual minds are praised and not feared or bullied. A place where stupid things like status was just a subtext and that the community as a whole was united in the pursuit of understanding magic. But the more I've seen and heard about it the more twisted and broken it is. At this rate it'll be just like primary school with horrible little children gossiping and attacking me just because I'm smarter than them!"

Her raised voice ended with their somber silence, each one of them thinking about the trials ahead. In hindsight this would be amusing, three eleven year old children contemplating their woes and miseries about their first year of school as if it was the end of their lives. But the truth was they all had come from a world of anguish and pain that left them with an unshakeable desire to escape it, and while Hogwarts appeared to be the key to doing so it was turning out to be more troubling than they could imagine.

What happened next was something that all three of them would forget in years to come, but it would be marked as the falling of the first domino to set in motion a change so drastic that everything they ever knew would be affected by it.

Harry was the first to break from his musings, his mind made up about what had to be done, "You guys I think we can help each other out. I already said this to Ron, but if the three of us work together then I'm sure things can be different. Who needs a massive amount of friends if we have each other to rely on? Everyone I've met so far has treated me like some sort of hero but they don't even see me, so why should I care about how they feel? Isn't it the same for you two as well? They judge us before they even know us, and frankly I think that we can do better without them."

Hermione eyed him skeptically as if she was trying to grasp what he was hinting at, "You mean to form a sort of club, like a fellowship?"

"We don't have to give it a name or something silly, but I feel like we all have something we want out of Hogwarts that no one else is even thinking about. I want to shatter this stupid Boy who lived title and become great for something I actually remember doing."

"You're right. I want to be great. To escape from my families shadow and prove that not all Weasley's lack ambition."

They turned to look at Hermione who still seemed hesitant to give her goal or opinion, but soon enough she followed. "I do want to be the best. I'll show them just how silly blood status is in the face of true talent."

"Then there you have it, so then how do we go about doing it? How do we go about changing how the world sees us?"

It was Ron who answered, "We need to go to Slytherine." Their questioning looks was the only prompt he needed to explain himself.

"Well think about it, that' the only house that has everything we need. You're regarded as one of the 'lightest wizards of all time' and Slytherine is notorious for giving raise to dark wizards. If you get sorted into there then it will turn a lot of heads. Hermione you're muggleborn, and while we don't care about that stuff, Slytherines are mostly pure bloods and half-bloods so they'll hate you all the same but then you'll have the perfect place to learn more about traditions and government since most of them have political family. As for me, well I'm a Weasley, and there has never been a Weasley in Slytherine. I'd be out of my brothers' shadow already and I am a pure blood so it forces people to rethink the whole Weasley clan if only a little bit."

Harry and Hermione could find no flaws in his thinking save for the obvious, they would more than likely be hated in their own house.

"You two realize that you'll be giving up any chance at making easy friends right? I might not be liked in Raven Claw but I'm used to not having friends. Harry you could be great in Gryffindor, they'd treat you like family just for being in the house. It's the same with you isn't it Ron, your whole family was in the house of lions and you'd be a welcome addition. Would be much easier than what you're suggesting."

"That's true, and for all we know it might happens since no one will tell us how the sorting works."

"Ron, Hermione that doesn't really matter. What matters is that we choose to stand together and help one another. If it doesn't work out with us in the same house then there is nothing against us meeting up outside of class or in our free time. So what do you say? Three of us against the world?"

As he finished Harry put is right hand in the middle of the compartment, holding it out as he awaited theirs.

"What have we got to lose? I don't want to be just another red-headed boy anymore." Ron's hand joined atop Harry's as the two of them looked towards Hermione.

"You've got a point, but let me be clear that this isn't going to be easy. If you two don't mind throwing away easy lives then I won't resist." And at last her hand joined theirs with a shock of electricity that caused them to gasp and pull their hands away.

"Great, now all we have to do is try and find a way to get sorted into the same house. Any ideas"

Just then the train whistle blew sharply outside the window, and for the first time in ages they three of them looked outside to see a castle in the distance.

"Looks like we're out of time, Hogwarts is close."

So too were the most important days of their eleven year old lives.'

End Chapter 2

Don't forget to review, any constructive criticism would be appreciated while flames will be ignored.


	3. The Sorting

**A/N: Heyo so don't get too used to these rapid updates. It's just that I've found writing this to be quite enjoyable and I have the time to do something about it. This one isn't very long, but I feel like it deserves to be its own chapter instead of being squeezed in before other things. And so without further ado, let the games begin.**

**Chapter 3: The Sorting**

By the time the train stopped the three of them were already changed into their robes. They didn't speak of it, but each of them had their heart in their respective throats as they disembarked the train to find Hagrid calling and waving them down, "First years, first years over 'ere!"

The older kids had gone into horseless carriages that pulled themselves by magic up to the waiting castle, but they were guided to a slew of boats on the water, "No more n four to a boat, come on now!" Briefly Harry wondered just how the small boats could support someone of Hagrid's size and weight, magic seemed to have never ending uses as it didn't even wobble when he stepped aboard. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were on the same boat as another boy, who looked as nervous as they felt, followed them on.

It was a short ride across the lake with captivating scenery as their imaginations ran away with them. The trip had a mystical feel to it, as if this was a ceremony of shorts that would forever mark the lot of them as magical folk for the rest of their lives. Who was to say that this trip, led by a massive guide, was not a ritual of sorts to bring out the magic within them? He said as much to Hermione, but if she was fascinated by the idea she did not show it.

The landed ashore and quickly removed themselves from the boats, "Alright come one single file single file. Oi you is that your toad?" He was pointing at their boat, and the nervous boy, Neville eagerly went to retrieve it. Without another look back to make sure no child had fallen behind, Hagrid raised his meaty fist and banged on the castle door.

After a pause the wooden door opened to reveal an older woman, who looked like she could be their grandmother, with a small smile on her face and a very pointed hat. "Come along now children." Her voice was stern but gentle at the same time, a combination Harry chalked up to her Scottish accent, a personal favorite of for the few times he'd heard it.

Before long they were standing in a small room all of them in line against the wall as the woman, Professor McGonagall, explained the start of term feast, the importance of houses and of course how house points effected their running for the most sought after house cup. And then with instructions to keep quite so they would hear their names, she left.

Of course the children broke into small pockets of chatter, commenting on the hundreds of floating candles, the way the roof looked like they night sky, and the appearance of ghosts who floated about speaking riddles to those who listened. But most curious of all, was the Sorting Hat. Needless to say it was a load off a lot of young minds who had no idea how sorting happened. There was rumors of a talent show to determine who went where, others thoughts you had to wrestle a troll or quote one of the founders to earn a place. How easy it was then in comparison to simply put on a hat.

So it was, after a very impressive song from the magical hat, that Professor McGonagall called the first name Abbot, Hannah, to be sorted. And the first Hufflepuff of the new term. The other children waited in silence, still nervous but excited about what house they would go to. With each name sorted the respected tables cheered, welcoming the new student with applause and smiles.

They were going by last name, and so in that order it meant that the first of the trio up was, "Granger, Hermione." She turned to smile at her two friends, nervous but excited, "Wish me luck." And then she strode out before the whole school to determine her fate.

Hermione….

The hat on her head was very big, coming down over her eyes but she had no time to fret as already a voice was in her head.

"_My my, what have we here? An insatiable thirst for knowledge, and no short amount of courage either, truly a mind that would do well in Raven Claw, perhaps even Gryffindor."_ Hermione felt her throat tighten as she thought about what Harry and Ron had told her. Those were the choices that she had wanted, but now that she had those two, friends and pactmates, the bushy haired muggleborn didn't want to risk losing them. The hat it seemed saw it too.

"_What's this? No I see it now, ambition clear as day. You've already made a promise, I see the mark its left you with. Your drive with serve you well, but if you lose your friends nothing but misery awaits you in"_

"SLYTHERINE!"

Hermione let out a sigh of relief as she removed the hat form her head and made her way down to the table. She'd done her part for the group, but what had the hat meant when it said she was marked? Her hand was just as clean and unblemished as when she'd left it, so she assumed it was speaking figuratively.

In any case she was seated near the end of the table, down by a few of the new first years as she turned back to watch the sorting.

Harry…

The supposed chosen one released a breath he had not realized he'd been holding. She had only had the hat on for a few moments, not much longer than anyone else but it seemed to stretch an eternity before finally calling out Slytherine. No one seemed to give it much thought, save for Draco who said something about the hat's senses must be failing if it sorted that menace into Slytherine. There were a few more names called before Malfoy's turn. The biggest surprise seemed to come from Neville Longbottom who was sorted into Gryffindor. It was no surprise however when the hat barely touched his blond head before shouting Slytherine for all to hear.

Only a handful were in front of Harry now, Moon, Nott and a pair of twin girls and then, "Potter, Harry!" The whole hall erupted into hushed whispers as the rumors of the Boy who Lived arrival had just been confirmed. One of the few stars of the wizarding world had just arrived at Hogwarts.

"Good luck mate." Ron clasped him firmly on the shoulder, and Harry strode out like all the children before him. He was nervous, scared, and a little worried that the hat would reject him, but beyond all that he felt determined to get himself sorted into Slytherine. After all, he could not leave Hermione in the house of snakes all alone, not after the promise.

Placing the hat on his head, he too had it slip over his eyes to hide from the outside world as a voice spoke into his mind.

"_Ahh another challenge, let's have a look. I see courage in you, yes not afraid to take on challenges are we, and power too, yes the making of greatness inside you."_ Harry couldn't tell what the hat was going to decide on but he didn't like that courage was what it was focusing on so he thought_, 'Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor.'_

"_No? We'll it would be an easy life, you'd be happy there and welcome. But I see your ambitions young one, a thirst to prove yourself and cast off those appointed titles. Yes it will be hard won, but I suspect with her by your side you'll do well in" _

"Slytherine!"

There was no applause for him, just furious whispers of what it could mean for the Boy Who Lived to be sorted into what many considered the darkest house in Hogwarts. As he placed the hat back on the stool Harry caught the eye of one of the staff members, an old man with stark white hair and a pointed hat. The same old man who was on his chocolate frog card, one Albus Dumbledor, look very curiously at Harry as their eyes met. Harry felt something, a feeling in his head that he'd never felt before. He thought it must have been his imagination though, for no sooner than he focused on the feeling was it gone as if it were never there.

Heads turned as he made his way to the Slytherine table, none of them smiled except for Hermione who scooted over to make room for him. The hat was right, this was going to be hard but at least he had not left Hermione alone.

"That makes two, now we just have to hope Ron can convince the hat to send him here." She was happy to have him, the raven haired boy could hear it in her voice, could see it on her face. And if he were honest he was glad that she didn't resent him, but now they had to endure more names before they found out if the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Ron….

How strange it felt to be separated from the two of them. Just a few hours ago Ron Weasley had convinced himself that besides his brothers and sister that no one else cared what happened to him and even they didn't fully understand the depths of his displeasure. And now he'd told not one but two people his goals and dreams just a few moments after meeting them. It was weird, saying it out loud, planning for it with others made it real, as if it did not count until someone else acknowledged it.

But he couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed, scared even. All his life Ron had just followed the flow of things, understanding his place in the Weasley family and for the most part accepting it. It was only after a quiet afternoon near the start of summer that he realized that he wanted more out of life than to just be another face in the crowd of red heads. Now he was on the cusp of going down a path that there was no retreating from, a fork in the road that would determine how the rest of his school life and probably well after that would go. It was his first real decision, one he could not take back, and because out of the three of them Ron had the most to lose, it was understandable that he had a moment of weakness:

'Maybe I was just being silly, maybe I should go to Gryffindor, be with the others and just keep my head down.'

To his surprise another voice echoed in his head, _"Is that how you truly feel? I see lots of bravery here, and indeed you'd be family with the lions along with your brothers.'_

The sorting hat?! When had he put it on?! So dazed from thought and future decisions Ron had not even realized that his name was called, and that he'd taken the hat to place it on his head. Now it was talking about putting him in Gryffindor, and, and it was all happening too fast!

'_Yes Gryffindor would be a simple life, but you wouldn't truly be happy there would you? I've seen your entire family Weasley, and it has been sometime since any of their minds and hearts held what yours does. Cunning and Ambition, a thirst for power. I see it in you, child. Small, but still there. In the right house it could grow, but the struggle to break into a world your family long since abandoned would be impossible…at least on your own. Go, little Weasley, they wait for you in,"_

"SLYTHERINE!"

Ron's heart was still beating rapidly in his ears, so at first he didn't notice that there was no applause for him either. Just like Harry the world was stunned, the twins stood with mouths agape as their little brother, ever a Weasley like the rest with freckled face and stark orange hair, was sent into a house that to their knowledge no Weasley had ever gone before.

The only pleasure, besides knowing that he would be able to keep his promise, was the look on Malfoy's face when Ron passed him by. Sitting down on the other side of Harry, the three of them exchanged smiles and knowing looks. None of them would realize that they now had the attention of two of the most powerful Wizards to ever grace these halls.

**End Chapter 3**

**Don't forget to review, as always I welcome constructive criticism and flames will be ignored.**


	4. Settling In

**A/N: Hello again folks. First off I want to give thanks to Undercover Operative and DZ2 to catching my spelling errors with the house names and such. I'm using word, but you can imagine that most of the words used in the HP universe come up as errors. Still, I'll do my best to correct them and check the net for spelling. Also, I figured that it is easier for me to write around 2000 word chapters and update more frequently rather than spend longer getting to 10000 or some such per chapter. However, if you do want longer chapters with more time in between feel free to say so in the review and If enough people want it that way I'll do my best to get it done. Also, this is a challenge from DZ2 and there are some guidelines that must be followed, and with that being said Snape….is likely to have a little OOCness but I plan on making it reasonable and not over the top. Ok, enough prattling on, enjoy the chapter yea.**

**Chapter4: Settling in**

The feast was filled with all kinds of food and drink that Harry and Hermione had never heard of, but Ron was right at home filling his gullet with forced reservation on his part. With the tension of the sorting gone from their shoulders the trio finally allowed themselves to act like the eleven year old children they really were. All around the other Slytherins talked, some gazing at Harry as they did so, while more of the older students observed Ron and Hermione with looks that ranged from curiosity to open hate.

They didn't let it get to them though, choosing instead to eat their fill until finally the dessert was gone and the head master stood to make a few more announcements. He spoke of Quidditch try outs and the forbidden forest, but what caught the attention of every student from first to seventh, was the warning to avoid a certain corridor on the third floor unless they wanted to experience a most painful death. The gentle tone he used betrayed the seriousness of his words.

Finally they were all dismissed, the perfects raising to escort the first years to their respected common rooms. There was no small shortage of twists n turns to get down to the dungeons, but the perfect, a tall girl by the name of Lexi Shafiq, assured them that it would get easier with time.

They stopped at an apparent dead end, nothing but a brick wall and an old photo of a rather extravagant wizard to greet them. That is until she gave the password, "Perfection."

The wall gave a shake before it rose to reveal a very spacious and green common room complete with fire place. They were given a quick tour, not much to see besides couches and paintings with the dorms on the middle wall. Bidding farewell to Hermione, the two friends made their way up and were pleased to see that their belongings where on bunks next to each other.

Once the perfects left the first years alone Malfoy made his move, "So a Weasley in Slytherin? What did do, you beg the hat to send you here?"

"Shut it Malfoy, I'm here because the hat knows I'm supposed to be!" Ron held none of the uncertainty that was present when he waited to be sorted, and Harry stood slightly behind him to give support much like Crabbe and Goyle had done for Malfoy. His emerald eyes was pleased to notice that the other two boys had yet to pick a side, settling instead to watch the exchange from their beds.

"Ha! A blood-traitor deserves to be in this noble house? Ridiculous! I'll bet your filthy parents are already getting letters from that second-rate owl of yours about you being sorted in the wrong house. Tell you what, when they give you the chance to be resorted I suggest you take it." Smirking at the fuming red head, Draco turned on and retreated to his bed along with his goons.

Ron took a threating step forward, but Harry placed a firm hand on his shoulder and stepped forward to calm him, "Save it mate, he's just trying to get a rise out of you. We both know you deserve to be here." The red head let out a long breath before nodding his head and turning towards his waiting bed. Harry gave one last glance towards the Malfoy heir before doing the same.

Ron….

Ron was busy building his plate up for the third time when he was interrupted by the form of one Severus Snape.

"Mr. Weasley, you are requested to the Headmaster's office." His tone was droll but firm, booking no room for refusal. Ron swallowed the food in his mouth, before nodding and standing. He shoot a concerned look to his friends who returned the favor before he went to follow his head of house. To his annoyance he could hear the arrogant I told you so, from one Draco Malfoy.

Not a word was said, only the echo of their shoes on the halls and the few greetings from some of the portraits to fill the silence. Finally they arrived before a gargoyle statue, which jumped aside as soon as Snape gave the word, "Sugar Pops. Off you go, Mr. Weasley."

Giving a silent nod, Ron climbed the twisting stairs into the Headmaster's office stopping just at the closed door. Gathering his courage and stomping on his nerves, the boy knocked twice on the door before the headmaster gave the ok to come in.

On the other side of the door Albus Dumbledore behind a somewhat messy desk with his parents sitting on before it. "Ah Mr. Weasley come in, come in."

Closing the door behind him, Ron moved to sit between his parents, who both enveloped him in a hug before they retook their seats.

"Now Mr. Weasley your parents have decided to visit out of their concern for you. It seems that your brothers informed them of your sorting into Slytherin, and your parents fear that it may be unsuitable for you."

His father turned to look him in the eye with a slightly apologetic glance, "We aren't angry or upset with you Ron, its just…well."

"It's just that no Weasley or Pruwitt mind you has been in Slytherin for ages. We fell that maybe the sorting hat made a bit of a mix-up. Wouldn't you be happier in another house? Maybe Gryffindor like your brothers?"

Ron had to roll his eyes at that, him go back to being just another Weasley, not a chance. Especially not after he convinced the hat not to send him there, "Mom, Dad it's fine really. I've already got friends in Slytherin and I don't want to abandon them like that."

His father looked a little more relaxed, glad to hear that he'd made friends so fast, "We understand Ron, but we worry about you being in such a…traditional house. I've not hidden what other pure-bloods like the Malfoy's think of us, and we're just not all that comfortable having you surrounded by people who tend to look down on our morals."

"Yes Ron, we really think it would be best to be among likeminded individuals who don't discriminate based on wealth or blood-status. Albus, couldn't you get the hat to resort him? Or perhaps just assign him to a different house?"

At this the old man stood to fetch the hat in question, while Ron tried to get his parents to drop the issue. It was not lost on him that his father wasn't really arguing against his staying in Slytherin, he was just concerned about his happiness and safety. But his mother wouldn't let it go about being surrounded by bad influences and questionable role models that were the older students.

The Headmaster returned with the worn sorting hat in hand, "Now, shall we get to the bottom of this? Have you been listening in?"

The shorting hat seemed to shake to life as the folds creased into a mouth and eyes, "Yes yes," it spoke gruffly, "I've heard it all. They question my sorting of young Mr. Weasley, but I know it was the right place to put him."

was the first to question, "But why? Our entire family has been in Gryffindor for as long as anyone can remember, why put him in what many consider the opposite house?"

"Because he possesses the qualities of Salazar's house is why. Sure he'd have done well in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but Mr. Weasley has ambition and a good deal of will to match his courage and loyalty. Not to mention resourcefulness with a little cleverness to boot. You should be proud that he's been placed in a house where he can truly allow those qualities to show without smothering them, less they come out in unhealthy ways later. Remember the house does not make the student, the student makes the house."

"Well, there you have it," He gently picked up the hat and turned to place it back on the shelf, "Thank you old friend."

Ron nodded at the hat before turning to his parents, "See? Its ok, I want to be in Slytherin." There was a firmness to his voice that lit a light behind his father's eyes. However his mother was not so sure.

"Oh Ron, maybe we can change schools. There is a smaller school in—"

"Enough Molly." As he spoke he placed a gentle but stern hand on his wife's shoulder, "Ron, so long as you're sure about this then we support you fully. You're growing up Ron, and that means being responsible for your own decisions. If you ever have any trouble we are just an owl away."

Ron had always loved his father, even with his lack of ambition and easy going ways the man never made it a point to stand in front of his children's dreams. Not even when it came to curse breaking, or dragon handling, pranks..or his placement in Slytherin. His mother however.

One look to his mother and Ron knew that she was just barely keeping her tongue in her mouth and Ron felt sorry for his father. With another hug to his parents, and the dismissal from the Headmaster, the still Slytherin Weasley made her way back to the Dorm.

Harry….

The next few days were hectic to say the least. Running around the castle, navigating the ever changing staircases and twisting halls was a challenge, but a fun one. Most of their classes were easy introductions to what was expected of them with light reading to ease them into the start of a long school year, but that trend didn't hold with Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was proving to be a harsh taskmaster as she assigned an 8 inch essay on the subject of simple transfiguration spells as well as having them try to transfigure a match stick into a needle.

The wand movements felt clumsy in Harry's hand as he'd yet to do anything with the instrument, but he quickly got over his hesitance. To his delight, along with Hermione and Ron's, they were the first three in class to successfully cast the spell which earned them six points for the house.

Then came double potions.

Potions class was doubled with Gryffindor and the tension was palpable enough before Professor Snape arrived. Harry had seen few teachers in his life, even fewer that were Magical, but Professor Snape seemed like a man who detested children deeply. With a wave of his wand what little light came in through the windows were curtained, and another swish dimmed a lot of the candles. He took role, his voice hard and cold much like his eyes as he bore them into each student for seconds after each answer.

He didn't pause long, just enough to put a face to the name, but that ended when the name Potter came from his mouth. Perhaps Harry was mistaken, but his name was the only one said with anything close to emotion, disdain.

"Ah yes. , the school has been abuzz since your arrival. Tell me, what would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry was caught off guard, those were things he might have seen in his book but to remember them now as impossible for the boy. He shared a glance with Hermione, who looked eager to raise her hand, but there was no way for her to share the information with him.

"I don't know, Sir."

"Too hard, let's try again, what's the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?" By now he could hear some of his fellow Slytherins laughing, one blond git and his two brainless lackeys. This time Hermione couldn't resist, she held her hand high and proud to be called on, but Harry didn't notice as he was currently locked in a staring match with his head of house, "I'm afraid I don't know Sir?"

To his credit, Snape didn't take on a mocking tone or even show a hint of a smirk. No instead his face was as passive and unreadable as ever. If he was trying to make a point, Harry hoped he'd make it soon so they could get on with it.

"No? Perhaps you just need one more chance. Where would you find a bezoar if I asked for one?"

AH! One that he actually knew! Hermione had mentioned that once, saying that it was both interesting and disgusting antidote for common poisons, "I'd look in a goat's stomach or intestines…sir." That brought a sudden hush to the class as Snape and Harry continued to lock eyes, Hermione's hand resting by her side as both she and Ron wore approving smiles.

It was possible that Harry imagined the whole thing, but he could have sworn that he'd seen just the tiniest hint of approval on his professor's face, "Two points to Slytherin, for showing signs of intelligence beyond the norm." Turning his attention to the rest of the class, "You see fame, either from personal exploits or families past deeds, will earn you no quarter here. Your wand means little here, and you'll find spells have next to no use with potions. Only awareness, competence, and an ever watchful eye will allow you to brew concoctions that could bring the most powerful of men to kneel."

Thankfully, the rest of the class went without incident.

By the time the weekend rolled around most of the first years were exhausted and struggling to do their homework, this included Ron and Harry who sat at one of the many tables of the Slytherin common room. But not Hermione. Not only did she finish her work early, but now she was reading ahead a few chapters in preparation for next week. Harry and Ron looked at her like she'd grown a second head, but she glared back at them firmly with a hint of disappointment. Glancing around to make sure no one was paying them any attention she spoke, "I thought you two had goals? Weren't you going to stand out and break the mold? Well how do you expect we do it if we just limit ourselves to this year's curriculum?"

Neither of the boys had an answer for her. She was right of course, no one was going to take them seriously even if they did well in all their classes. That was what the teachers expected. No if they wanted to crave their own way in the world it would come with no short amount of extra studying.

"You're right Hermione, as always," Ron gave her a cheeky grin which just brought an eye roll from their female friend, "We're already here now right Harry? Might as well not let it go to waste."

"Yea of course. Look Hermione I don't know about Ron, but it's just sort of my habit when it comes to schoolwork to just muck about until I really need it. But we'll do better, especially if we split the load between the three of us." The bushy haired girl looked mutinous, and Harry quickly raised his hands to stave off what he was sure to be a verbal assault, "No no, I'm not saying you do our homework or anything! But it's obvious so far that you're the smartest in our year, so why not help us catch up to where you are, and then we can all proceed together? You know, help us form good study habits and all that."

Hermione looked surprised by his suggestion before her eyes got sort of misty. Ron and Harry shared a nervous glance, not knowing what they said to cause such a reaction, and neither of them had to deal with crying girls before…well in Ron's case, crying girls who weren't related.

"Erm, Hermione?"

Said girl waved of the concern in their voice before wiping her eyes and regaining her composure, "Sorry, it's just" She paused, giving them an award winning smile despite her buck teeth, "No one has ever asked me to help them study before. They usually just want to copy, or make fun. Of course I'd be happy to help, we made a promise right?"

Ron groaned dramatically before pretending to slam his head on the desk, "We're going to be up to our noses in books all the time aren't we?" The three of them shared a laugh at his antics, the seriousness forgotten with their childlike laughter.

"Alright I'm in. Can't let Percy be the brains of the family forever I suppose. Still can we at least have Saturday to just you, know, goof around? I'm not saying all the time, important stuff might come up or maybe we'll get into some serious spell work but if not let's just have that day to rest."

**End chapter 4**

**As always reviews and constructive criticism are encouraged.**


	5. Halloween and the Troll

**A/N: Hello again readers! I must say, this story is getting more attention than I'm really used to! I've been trying to fix my errors and make things easier to read, but if there are any I'll do my best next time to make sure not to repeat them. Also as you've probably noticed Harry isn't on the quidditch team in this story. No reason to since he wouldn't have stood up for Neville when Draco took his rememball or whatever. This chapter has a little bit of action (which I'm not used to writing for HP so feel free to give some pointers) and builds up the relationship between the three of them. Anyway, enough of my babbling, I hope you enjoy~**

**Chapter 5: Halloween and the Troll**

The next two months flew by in a hurry. Between the never ending classes with matching homework, the extra studying to try to get ahead, and the grueling practice sessions in the common room the trio had little time to muck about like the rest of the first years. As much as the gang would have liked to say that they'd been able to breeze through the first year workload, truth of it was that because Harry and Ron had abysmal study habits that took time to break, the three of them had just gotten ahead of their workload.

Now when they studied it was all for 'fun' as Hermione called it, the pursuit of knowledge and in turn, power.

The three of them excelled at different courses, sometimes frighteningly so but in order to make sure the other two got the gist of it, they thought it fair to catch up in their struggling classes before going further.

For Harry Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was easy as could be. It seemed like wand work came naturally to him even with his muggle upbringing, and his mind was sharp for learning the incantations. What really set him apart from the others was not the haste in which he learned the spells, but the undeniable power he had when casting them. By no means was he firing them off with enough power to threaten anyone above their year, but it was noticeable by his sparing partners that his spells packed a wallop.

Ron, even though he didn't like to study, would have blown his parents and sibling's mind at his grades. The fire headed boy was the slowest at learning the spells, and the second best in power. His wand, a hand me down, could handle the strain of his magic, but it was clear with every spell cast and recast that it was not a proper fit. He'd once described it like being in a pair of trousers that was just one half a size too small: uncomfortable, annoying, and hard to move in. But until he found a way to raise the money and purchase a proper wand it was all he had to use.

Ron really shined in History of Magic, a class that everyone seemed to think was useless and boring had become one of Ron's favorites. He had underestimated his pureblood status and the amount of seemingly irrelevant knowledge that it came with. Old tales of war and heroes were in the back of his mind from nightly stories told by his father or brothers. The problems with government was something he could actually follow and relate to with ease because of the many nights his father came home grumbling about the Ministries faults. All of this he passed on to Harry and Hermione who sometimes struggled to understand the absurdity of it all.

As for the most brilliant witch of their year, as Hermione was quickly becoming, she had a wider array of classes that she seemed to just absorb. Potions, Herbology, charms, DADA, and transfiguration were easy for her as breathing. While it might have taken her just a hairs breath longer to learn the spells than Harry, and the amount of power behind them was significantly less, there was no doubt about her potential when it came harnessing her magic. But unlike Harry who knew the words and nothing else, Hermione seemed to hold almost every fact as if she'd just read. Potion ingredients, known facts about plant life, the results of a wrongly brewed potion, ask her anything and you'd be hard pressed to get a wrong answer.

Their accomplishments had not gone unnoticed, not by staff and certainly not by the students. If they were in Gryffindor or even Hufflepuff they would be surrounded by friends and praised by their head of house for displaying a brilliance that had gained them 20 points between the three, a feat unheard of by first years who usually ended up losing their house points by rule breaking.

But they were in Slytherin, a house that most felt they did not belong in by most of their peers. Snape had not commented on their excellent grades or nearly flawless behavior, choosing instead to simply ignore them or down play their achievements. They didn't pay him any mind though, Snape was a cold man by nature and so they were able to shrug it off. Sadly that was not the case with the students.

The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws were abuzz with heated remarks about the three of them. Childish taunts followed them from class to class with whispers of cheating or tampering with dark magic tried to cheapen their hard earned spoils from studying. There was always blood between the snakes and the lions, but who knew that it had gotten to the point that third and fourth years would send curses their way? It was mostly harmless spell work that left them vomiting slugs, or with oddly colored hair, but the trio had learned quickly to be on their guard at all times.

It was worse in house. Slytherins had a code, one that dated back to the founding days of old: Never show weakness or dissent within the house. Out in the halls where the eyes of their rivals were upon them, all of Slytherin moved to punish or defend them verbally or physically from their attackers, but once they reached the common room or the dorms their wands turned onto them with frightening ease.

Harry was the boy who lived, a title he had no choice over or say in, but for all intents and purposes it made him a target by some of the older members of his house whose families had ties with dark wizards or witches. It wasn't unusual to find people staring at him with open disdain, or moving to hex him if he weren't fast enough. Draco and his two flunkies were always there to stir the pot, whispering horrible things about his blood-traitor of a father and his mudblood of a mum.

Ron was worse off. His family had been blood traitors for generations, and with their ever increasing numbers they had stepped on a lot of toes for some of the more traditional families. He could barely go a day without someone firing something nasty at him or taunting him to the point of a faux duel that ended with him cursed by several wands. After three trips to the hospital wing and a detention cleaning the dungeon floor without magic, Ron had started to try in earnest to contain his temper. But no matter how bad it got for either of the boys they always had each other for backup, and It was not lost on either of them that Zabini nor Nott ever moved to attack or help them.

But Hermione could not say the same. No matter what hatred or biased that came with being the Boy who lived or a blood-traitor, nothing compared to being a muggleborn in the eyes of the Slytherins. Hermione was no stranger to social outcast, but having no break from the antagonizing, from the mean whispers, cold shoulders, and attacks took a heavier toll on her than she'd let Ron or Harry know. Muggleborn or no, girls were always nastier than boys, because while a boy could hex you or say vague insults, a girl always knew where you were weakest and attacked it relentlessly.

They figured her out, what confidence she had in brains and blood status was not copied into her looks. Something that was mostly beyond her control, a base but common factor in social acceptance was her Achilles heel, an unguarded flaw. For two months she'd endured the taunts of Pansy and her loyal followers, two months of insults to her appearance, intelligence, future in the wizarding world, and of course her place in Hogwarts.

As strong as Hermione was in will and heart, she was still and eleven year old girl with feelings that could be hurt, and resolve that could be broken. And on October 31st, just fifteen minutes before the start of the feast and five minutes after their last class, Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her year, excused herself from the company of her only friends with only the faintest of reasons and the knowing smiles of those horrible girls who had used cruel words to rob an eleven year old girl of her self-esteem.

Harry…

The great hall was abuzz with joy from laughing students and festive creations. The food was excellent, some of it charmed to give a scream when poked or prodded, while others tried to escape the plate until a student managed to take a bite. It was a good Friday that would start a nice relaxing weekend, and everyone seemed to be grateful for it. Well, almost everyone. Harry Potter picked around his plate as he glanced at the door to the hall in anticipation. To his right, Ron was playing around with a tart that just would not stop scurrying about but he could see his friends gaze shift to the door with a scowl before looking back down at his plate.

"She's been gone too long." It was a fact at this point. Harry and Ron were used to girls taking longer in the loo, but she'd been gone nearly an hour, and the feast would soon be over.

Ron's frown deepened as he gave the tart a rough stab to keep it pinned down, his eye turning further down the table at one Pansy Parkinson gave a shrill laugh at something Daphne had said, "I bet they did something to her. Probably something nasty. You know how they are mate, always gossiping on about stupid things."

Oh Harry knew alright, it was all anyone seemed to do when it came to them, "Well enough is enough yea?" Without warning his stood, his plate forgotten as a storm of anger started to brew in his chest. Ron didn't hesitate to raise with him, his ears already red with frustration and his hand clinched into a fist. Together they made their way to the girls who by now stopped their laughing to look smugly at the new arrivals.

Harry spoke, his voice tight with barely controlled rage, "Where is she?"

Ever the ringleader Pansy spoke up, "Where is who? You're ugly little friend?" This got a few laughs from the peanut gallery, but only served to make Harry's scar heart tighten as he felt a strange pressure from behind his eyes.

Harry knew he could not make a scene, professor Snape would be all over them in moments, and it would break the one thing any Slytherin respected. But he was almost past the point of caring. Opening his mouth to ask again, he was brought up short by a gentle tap on his shoulder.

He turned and green eyes met brown as one Susan Bones stood meekly before him, "I-If you're looking for Hermione she's in the girl's bathroom. Th-th-the one haunted by Moaning Myrtle."

Where Harry's thoughts not on his bushy haired friend he might have registered the fact that most of the students were looking at them and whispering. No one simply talked to THEM unless it was hurling taunts or possibly some spells, yet one little HufflePuff, a firsty at that, broke that trend. Perhaps she could relate to the loyalty one had to their friends. As it was the emerald eyed boy simply thanked Susan before turning to leave with Ron in tow, not caring about what just transpired.

They were through the doors and half way down the hall when Professor Quirrel's stuttering yell, "T-T-T-Troll!"

With a shared look they burst into a sprint, their robes bellowing from the effort as they hurried to find their wayward friend.

Hermione….

In a little bathroom not far from the charms classroom, behind a closed stall door, sat one weeping brown haired witch. What was interesting was that she'd chosen this particular bathroom to allow her sorrows to show.

How strange it was that nearly fifty years ago, another bright witch sat in that stall crying because of the cruelty of the other girls. She was a RavenClaw, one of the more studious of witches with thick glasses and lopsided smile, gentle at heart, but labeled as a boring insufferable know it all. Yes if Hermione had been able to put any thought to her current situation she would be shocked to see the alarming amount of parallels between herself and a witch who'd been dead for half a century. A witch that would never grow older or make any friends. A permanent occupant of Hogwarts, by the name of Myrtle.

Moan Myrtle, a mean name given to a bitter ghost, was always weeping much like her name states. She never gives privacy to the girls who were brave or foolish enough to enter her bathroom, and despite her weak will in the living flesh she bites with her words as an untouchable ghost. Truly she is the reason for the decline in use of such fine facilities. Interestingly enough, she was absent tonight, leaving Hermione alone with her grief.

She hated herself for being in here, crying in frustration and despair from the harsh judgment of weak-minded girls. Hermione wasn't stupid, she knew that they lashed out like this because they were intimidated by her smarts. The girl knew that inside they seethed every time she got a right answer, every time she learned another spell before them or got points where they could not. So of course they lashed out, tried their best to cut down the image of perfection they themselves built in their minds, and make the bright star dim like they thought themselves to be. But knowing it didn't make take the sting from their words.

Hermione had truly thought the wizarding world would be better, but in the end it was worse in some ways. Here people still hated her for the things she was good at, and hated her for things she could not control, but worse yet was the hatred for her blood, which apparently some thought filthy. These thoughts brought another tear to her eye as she used tissue to wipe it away.

Harry and Ron, they didn't know what it was like for her. Sure they had their problems like everyone else, was taunted and teased just like her, but they were _boys. _What did a boy care if someone called him ugly or plain? What did they care about teasing or taunts? Why a bloke could just muster up his courage and slug the other bloke if it got bad enough. They'd fight and get it over with, but it wasn't so easy for girls. Girls had to be refined, to keep their poise and only fight with words or wands when pleasant company was not around. As much as she'd love to, Hermione couldn't just punch Pansy in her smug face.

She was finally getting herself together when the door opened, and with it some very heavy footsteps. Not sure what to expect Hermione opened her stall and gasped as she came face to face with a twelve foot giant holding a club the size of a minivan.

The creature looked confused at first, but that gave way to anger as it realized that there before it was a little person like the one who'd brought him here against his will. It gave one loud roar, a terrible sound that served to shake Hermione from her stupor, and raised its club in a fit of rage.

Hermione's brain was in overdrive, searching for something, anything that could allow her to live past the next sixty seconds. Ah there it was. Two weeks ago the three of them had been studying DADA when they came across trolls. Trolls were technically covered in creatures, but Professor Quirrel had stated that he had a way with the giant creatures and felt it best to share. In her readings she learned that while Trolls could be dangerous if left unchecked, for the most part they were idiots. Big bumbling fools that had trouble understanding the simplest of things, but could crush a wizard as easily as it could blink. And what did idiots love? Bright and shiny things.

"LUMOS!"

The brightest glow she'd ever managed was now at the tip of her wand, brimming with light from the extra energy fueling the spell. The troll stopped in his tracks, club slowly lowering as it just stared at the light. Then it started moving, coming closer with slow steps as his free hand reached out to grab the bright source as if in a trance. Hermione started to move around and towards the door, but stopped when it burst open to reveal her only and best friends, Harry and Ron.

Whatever the two were getting ready to say died on their lips as they watched the troll with apparent awe and terror. Harry recovered first, gripping his wand with white knuckles as he threw out one of the few offensive spells he knew, a stinging hex. In hindsight he probably should have done something else.

The hex struck his left hand, and be it by surprise or pain, the giant dropped his club with a thud as he rubbed his hand with a small groan. Forgetting the light, it looked to Harry with a frown before giving a roar of anger and moving to grab him. The little boy was nimble, sprinting between its legs to get behind it where he threw another hex much to the trolls frustration.

The troll had him cornered, trapped between the stalls and the sinks but lucky for him Ron was no longer idle. The red head realized that there was no way they could sting the troll into submission. No they needed something heavy and strong to subdue the beast, and that's when his eyes landed on the club. "WingardiumLeviosa!" The club wobbled at first, but then it began to raise steadily as the spell took effect.

The troll, hearing the shout, turned to see his club climbing higher and higher by invisible means. It was stunned to say the least, looking at his club flying away with a seemingly idiotic expression plastered on its face. And then once it had reached far above the trolls head, Ron cancelled the charm, and watched it fall. The racket that followed was loud enough to be heard through the castle, and most certainly anyone on the first floor felt the rumble of a massive troll collapsing onto the ground.

With steady breathing the bumbling troll was down and out, while three friends stared at their accomplishment with wonder. Hermione turned and wrapped them both in a hug, mustering as much of her thanks into the action as she could. Ron had to say it rivaled his mother's monstrous hugs.

Pulling back she fought down a blush as she gave them a huge smile, "Thank you, both of you! How did you know I was here?"

Harry explained their unease at missing her at dinner, and where on their way to find her when Professor Quirrel came shouting about a troll. Thankfully neither of the boys asked why she was in the loo for so long, they probably wouldn't understand, but Hermione vowed that she'd make a point to not allow the taunts of others to leave her in such a vulnerable state ever again.

"We have to thank Susan Bones. If not for her we might not have made it in time." Harry's attention was on the troll, his face a blank mask of pondering. How did a troll get into Hogwarts in the first place? The doors were big enough, sure, but surely someone would notice a massive creature approaching the school and take action to prevent it from coming in. Ron, it seemed, was having the same thoughts.

"How do you think it got in? I mean, wasn't very smart, and you'd think the professors would notice a bloody troll stomping around the forest yea?"

Hermione didn't even try to fight the frown that came from his words, "You're right. I find it hard to believe that it was stealthy enough to sneak into the castle without anyone knowing. But if that's true, then it means that someone brought it here and let it loose."

"Yes but why?" Now Harry was looking at the two of them, his eyes alight with buzzing curiosity, "A troll is dangerous enough, but let it go unchecked in a castle full of kids and you're begging for a disaster. I can't say much about the staff but none of them seem like they'd want the school to close, and I doubt the headmaster would just let someone in with a troll without precautions in place. So either I'm wrong and the headmaster is mental, or someone from the staff snuck it in….without the rest knowing."

It sounded a bit farfetched, but it was the only thing that made sense to him. Hermione was about to speak but the groaning of the troll robbed her of words.

"Maybe we should get back to the common room." He got no protest from them.

Trio…..

The three of them were halfway to the dungeons before they came across their head of house. Professor Snape was normally a picture of perfection, never stuttering or hunched over like some of the other teachers. Here however his face was slightly contorted in pain, and if they had to guess it had something to do with the limp in his right leg. Still, the professor had his pride, and once he locked eyes with them all of the pain vanished from his expression, "We've been looking for you three. Tell me, how is it that three of my students did not make it back to the common room like the rest. Surely you knew there was an emergency?"

His black eyes were locked in on Harry, who not for the first time wondered why it seemed like whenever there was trouble the professor seemed to think him the cause. It was Hermione who fielded that question, "It's entirely my fault sir. I-I had went to the loo and was not in the great hall when the announcement was made. Ron and Harry knew this and-and did thought it best to get me. I was lucky they did, otherwise the troll might have gotten me."

Snape continued to stare at Harry even while she spoke, and Ron noticing the staring contest, shifted to stand slightly in front of him, a bold move to show his support. Snape didn't seem to care, "I see. Ten points from Slytherin, each, for failure to act in a competent way. You two should have flagged down a teacher or a perfect and passed on the message instead of running around like a pair of brainless fools. But the teachers did find the troll knocked out, and now we know why. 15 points to Slytherin each, for…clever use of spells in a dangerous situation. Come, back to the dungeons. And though I should not have to even say it, if you three do anything like that again I will do my best to have you expelled. Hogwarts has not place for heroics."

END CHAPTER 5

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